“He has free run of the place. I’ve been keeping him out while Lucy settles, but once they’re friends, he’ll be allowed back in.”
“You have a good life,” he told Ramon. The bird nuzzled his hair then pressed his beak to his cheek.
“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”
“Let me guess,” Marcus said. “The cat being the worst of times.”
Ramon shot Jax a little stink eye. “No cat!”
“You haven’t even met her yet. She’s lovely.”
Ramon blew a raspberry, then flew to the bookcase by the French doors.
“Open please.”
She crossed to the doors. Marcus followed.
“He goes outside? Is that safe?”
“I appreciate that you’re worried but he’s fine. Remember, the doors to the bookstore are open all the time. Ramon doesn’t go anywhere. If he sees a friend, he’ll fly out to greet them, but otherwise, he sticks close to home. He’s a very good boy.”
The parrot flew to her shoulder, then rode her out to the widow’s walk. He hopped over to the perch left out for him, looked around and proclaimed, “I’m king of the world!”
She and Marcus settled on the chaises. As promised, the sun had moved far enough north that this side of the building was in shade. The temperature was still warm—in the low eighties—but there was a breeze and a view of the beach and ocean beyond.
Marcus gave a low whistle. “This is prime real estate.”
“Thanks. It’s a killer view for sure.”
“The apartment is plenty big,” he said. “You’ve got a good setup for the weeks you’re not with the kids.”
“I think so. I lived up here before Harris and I got married. Ramon has his private space on the second floor, so it works. Once Harris and I were married, we moved in here until we bought the house.”
“Ramon must have missed you when you moved out.”
She glanced at her beautiful bird. “He did at first, but then he adjusted. He still had his cat, which helped and when Harris was on the road, I moved back here a few days a week. I guess in a way, the apartment has always been home for the two for us.”
“Do the kids ever stay here?”
She nodded. “There’s a second bedroom with two beds. We’re here for New Year’s Eve and the Fourth of July. Because of the fireworks. I prefer my own bed, but now that the kids are older, they bunk down in one of the genre rooms. We also have teen overnight parties in the bookstore, which Ramon loves. He hangs out with everyone, doing all the things and is exhausted and cranky the next day.”
“Just like any four-year-old.”
“Exactly.”
“Albert!” Ramon flapped his wings, then whistled. “Albert!”
Marcus chuckled. “So Albert is here?”
“I guess.”
Ramon flew off the widow’s walk and down toward the sidewalk, all the while calling, “Albert! Albert!”
“Now Albert will be forced to come into the store,” Marcus said.
“Not just come in, but spend a few minutes with his favorite bird. Maybe he’ll stop for a coffee and find a book he might enjoy.”
“You’re saying Ramon is in on the con.”
